


Sweethearts (Day 1)

by SaltySadness



Series: The Egos and the 31 Day Christmas Writing Prompts [1]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas Prompt Challenge, But Make It 31 Days Instead, Christmas, Christmas Music, Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing, Wilford Won't Leave Him Alone, one nsfw joke, poor dark, super fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltySadness/pseuds/SaltySadness
Summary: This is the first prompt, "Play Christmas music for hours". Wilford rushed upstairs to Dark's office almost as soon as he woke up on December 1st with music already going. The egos decide to check up at a later time, just to see if Wilford is still alive.I decided to write something sappy because it is almost the one month anniversary (I think it is tomorrow actually!) with my girlfriend Muffin! So I felt like being sweet as I blared Christmas music into my own ears to get an idea for this. This is also to make up for bullying them on TikTok this morning.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache, Dr. Iplierst (implied), darkstache
Series: The Egos and the 31 Day Christmas Writing Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036356
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Sweethearts (Day 1)

Wilford practically shot out of bed the moment his alarm sounded. He loved Christmas, and even if it were several weeks away, he finally had permission to start celebrating it. Dark made it a rule that Wilford had to wait for December before he started to celebrate, and he had to stop by January. This meant that he only had 31 days to make Dark regret that decision as much as possible. He grabbed his handheld radio, the one he kept because no matter how hard Google tried to teach him he would never understand newer technology, and turned the volume all the way up. And that was how most of the egos were awoken, as Wilford made his way down the hall. There was only one figure he knew for a fact he would not have awoken, for he was always up at the crack of dawn and in his office. And so, he rushed right to that room, ignoring all the rather annoyed egos that had no reason to be awake this early in the day.

Dark had long stopped paying attention to the date. It didn't matter much anyway, as a being who had been alive for almost a century at this point. However, he always ended up regretting that around Christmas, whenever Wilford would make his life hell for 31 days straight. So, when the faint sound of Mariah Carey's _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ crept closer, his eyes widened as he felt a cold sting of dread. _Oh god, what's the date?_ He went digging through all the papers he had stacked on his desk to find the date on Google's report that he submitted yesterday. November 30th. Dark stared at the date as the music came closer, looking up just in time for a certain pink madman to burst through the doors with a grin as if he had just won the lottery. The wild look in the man's eyes only confirmed what was going on. "Hey, Dark! I have _great_ news!"

It had been a few hours since anyone had heard from either man. The music could still be heard, but not a single voice after the shouting that had occurred as soon as those doors almost completely shut behind Wilford. Everyone was walking around quietly, subconsciously waiting to see what was happening next. Google was the most irritated by this waiting and tension. Dark wanted daily reports on what people were up to for the day. He normally would have sent an email, but much like the other old man of the house, Dark was hopelessly lost when it came to new technology. So here he was, holding a dumb piece of paper with a report printed out on it. And everyone preventing him from interrupting whatever was going on. He finally broke the silence, looking at the few egos in the living room with nothing else to do. Bim couldn't work without his boss, so he was stretched out on a sitting chair. Since Host's retirement, he literally had no job to do, so he was cuddled up against Iplier, who had nobody to attend to also since Wilford was gone, on the couch. Eric had no new jobs since the commercials, so he was working on a puzzle on the table. Google had been sitting completely stiff in the other living room chair, paper tight in his grasp, when he spoke. "I need to go up there. It is required I give Darkiplier this report daily, and I have more important tasks to accomplish after I give this to him." 

"The Host strongly advises against that, Darkiplier would be quite furious right now if you interrupt him now. Google should just move on to the next task and later on give him the report."

Google shot a look at Host, opening his mouth to say something when Eric cleared his throat. His gaze snapped to Eric, as did every other person's. Eric sat up a little, nodding as he looked between the android and Host. "Yeah, Dark doesn't like it when I disturb them, even if I just place something on his desk and leave again without saying anything. He would get so mad if you interrupt his argument with Wilford." 

"Eric, you are aware we haven't heard a peep since the fight earlier, right? Whenever they fight, it is _always_ loud as hell. My bet is they're having makeup sex right now." Bim interjected, smirking on the latter comment. "Before you judge me, I have been around them a lot longer than you, and I know their ways. They're old lovebirds. I cannot tell you how many times in my earlier days I barged in on them while in the office together. I always knock before going in now, even if I know Wilford is in the studio. He can teleport, y'know?" 

Iplier scoffed, taking all the attention. "Oh please, you're both wrong. I'm a doctor, I know better than you two, and I bet they're giving each other the silent treatment. Wilford probably isn't in there, he's gone off to pout and kill people. Dark is just sitting there angrily stewing. He always has hated Christmas. Besides, how would we even win this bet? We don't have a way to figure out what's going... on..." 

All the attention turned to Host, who had been silent since his initial comment. He must have been not paying attention, as after a moment he turned his attention to the group and their eyes on him. "What? Do they all expect the Host to spy in on Darkiplier and Wilford Warfstache? What if Bim Trimmer is right, hm? The Host does not want to see that." The continued staring made him groan loudly, giving in rather quickly. He used his Narration, keeping his voice quiet, when he suddenly smiled widely. "The Host can determine that none of them are right." 

The noises of confusion made him laugh a little, his face slightly red. "The door is slightly cracked, if they are quiet and do not disturb the pair, they can go see what he means. Now, leave the Host alone and stop involving him in their petty bets. He does not know what he shall do when he does eventually catch something he would rather not see." 

The four egos who had no narrations scurried upstairs, wondering what they might see. The sounds of Frank Sinatra's _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ streamed outside of the door they all crept closer to. They all took turns peering in the doorframe, with Google going last. Each one before walked away satisfied with a soft smile, confusing him. He finally looked in, prepared to interrupt whatever this was going to be for the report, when he saw a soft sight before him.

As the song played, the old men, both undead and out of time, were embracing each other. They moved in a short pattern, and Google had to take a moment to realize they were slow dancing. They held each other, the shorter grey man laying his head on Wilford's shoulder as another Frank Sinatra song came on, this time _White Christmas_. Google waited a moment as he witnessed Wilford lean down slightly and press a kiss to Dark's head. He turned away from the scene, scoffing to himself. _Fine, Darkiplier will have to figure out an email. I have more important things to do_. He kept the frown on his face, pretending as if there wasn't a warm feeling in his chest as he walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Almost all the slots for the rest of the days are open! If you have a couple or a friendship you wanna see (Septics or Ipliers), please comment what you want! Day 1, 2, 4, 10, 21, and 26 have already been decided but I wanna hear from everyone else!


End file.
